Fire and Gasoline
by OfWickedLies
Summary: Clara Wilkes is a snarky witch that's being hunted by a clan trying to prove it's strength. Paul is a hot tempered shape shifter with a thirst for picking fights. That's a potent mix, but can they afford it with what's after them?
1. Chapter 1

"Burn, baby, burn!"

Howls ripped through the night air, followed by a chorus of Wooohoos and Yeehaws. Cars lined the field that kept a house that blazed with white flames. Atop the hoods of the cars, sat and propped men and women with appearances from the ages of thirteen to twenty-nine. The youngest of them all – a blue-eyed blonde haired girl named Abigail – tipped back the bottle of beer in her hand, and let out another howl, which set off a chain reaction. "That is what I call fun," she mused, looking to her older sister with a twinkle in her eye.

Clara Wilkes smiled down at her little sister, and ruffled her dirty blonde hair. "That's my girl," she said. Clara stood up and threw her empty bottle into the large metal bin a few feet from her. She faced her clan and raised her arms. "Tonight, we've obliterated our enemy!" She smiled at the looks of satisfaction and calm that settled over her father's clan. "But don't be fooled into thinking this means we needn't keep our guards up. There will be other clans looking to take their place, and they will come after us with all that they have. You're going to have to get stronger! Smarter! Quicker!"

There was a hiss that rang out in the night and Clara's lip curled over her ultra-white teeth. "Go! I'll summon you all at the sabbat!"

Some of them hopped in their cars and drove away, others disappeared into thin air. Others stood tall and scanned the area. "It's those witches from Missouri," a man with an arrow tattooed on his neck said in distaste.

Clara scowled, wishing that her father were here instead of her. Ever since she could remember, she'd had to step up and be the leader of somebody. She'd never had the chance to act like a teenager and two centuries after her nineteenth birthday, things still hadn't changed. She pulled her shiny blonde hair into a tight pony tail and slid the dagger from her boot. "I'm sick and tired of dealing with this," she said. She turned her blue eyes to Abigail. "Abby, get back in the car."

Abigail narrowed her eyes. "I'm two hundred and thirteen years old, Clara, I think I can take on some snot nose-"

Clara held up her hand and threw the dagger to her sister. "Fine, but if you get hurt, I'm gonna kill them and then I'm gonna kill you. Is that clear?"

Abigail flipped the dagger around in her hands and quirked a light eyebrow. "Crystal clear, _ma'am_."

The man with the tattoo strode forward, the others falling behind him. "Clara, something is off. I think they may have gained in strength."

"Isaac, I understand that, but I'm not going to let them think they can march up and-"

"This is different, Clara. They're darker. This isn't about pride anymore. Would you put our clan at risk for this?" Isaac's dark brown eyes challenged her and she sighed.

Clara grabbed her sister's hand. "If Dad never comes back and something happens to me, I want you to take over," she told Isaac, before she and her sister turned to nothing mist. Clara knew something was wrong even they'd before they became solid again. It wasn't just the fact that they were nowhere near their home.

Abigail hissed out an expletive so vile that Clara blushed. Abigail was clutching her leg and blood oozed between her slender fingers. Clara scowled and slapped her sister's hands from her leg, and ripped off the pants leg. "It's a clean freaking break," Clara informed her.

Abigail narrowed her eyes. "No shit, Sherlock!"

Clara touched the broken skin around her sister's bone and Abigail cringed. "Oops," she muttered sarcastically. I'm going to carry you, all right? I smell sea salt which means I might be able to hear you."

"Why can't you just dematerialize and pop us over? It's much easier," Abigail commented, blinking back the tears.

Clara snorted. "Right, like I want hellbitches on my tail. It looks like we're hanging out here until your leg's healed."

Abigail looked around at the dark forests that lined the road they sat in the middle of. She let her head drop and she sighed. "Oh, _great_."


	2. Chapter 2

"Shut up, you know it doesn't hurt that bad."

Abigail gave her sister a murderous look as she let the waves splash against her fingertips. "You try having your bone sticking out of your skin!"

Clara grinned at her little sister's quip. In truth, she was proud that Abigail was handling it so well. No matter how old, she'd seen people break out in tears or go into shock. Abigail treated it like it was nothing more than a paper cut. Even though Clara was older than Abigail by six years, she could almost swear Abigail was the oldest. In many ways, she was much more mature than her. Pulling herself back to the task at hand, Clara dipped her hands in the cold water of the Pacific ocean, and closed her eyes, attuning herself with the land and with the ocean.

The first rule she'd learned was connecting and introducing yourself to the land. There was nothing quite as scary as elementals who were pissed at you for marching onto their lands. After a moment, she could almost hear the sound of the undines laughing as they swirled about in the ocean's waves, and very quietly she heard what sounded like a mermaid's song.

Contrary to mythology, mermaids didn't necessarily lure men to their deaths. Although, some did. Clara hoped that these weren't the kind that did. She inhaled. "Mermaids- beautiful women of the sea – come, I invoke thee. Lend me your magic, help me heal my sister's injury," she whispered.

The water began to tingle against her fingers. She didn't have to open her eyes to know that the water was swirling with lights in the shades of whites, greens, silvers, and blues. Clara could hear the mermaids' songs. She opened her eyes to find the waves seeming to glide forward to cover Abigail's leg.

Abigail linked her hand with her sister's and Clara used her right hand to direct the swirling lights to her wound. Abigail clenched her teeth as the bones popped back into place and mended. "Thank you," they both said, nodding their heads to the ocean.

Clara patted herself down before pulling two shiny pendants from her pocket. The swirling lights flickered before morphing into the forms of two women floating in the water, small circlets woven from net and sea shells adorning their heads. Clara smiled and held out the pendants. "Thank you," she said to them.

The two women smiled before ducking their heads under water and disappearing, their tails splashing water at the two girls on the shore. Abigail and Clara laughed, and Clara pulled her sister from the water. "Nice ladies," Abigail said.

Clara inclined her head sideways, in what was a half-nod. "I guess so, huh? Last mermaid we came across tried to drown us."

Abigail wrinkled her nose in distaste before clutching onto her sister's neck, pulling herself to her feet. Her left leg wobbled and her knee bent, her leg giving out on her. "This is going to get annoying," she snapped at no one in particular, and huffed as her sister picked her up as if she weighed nothing.

"What do you say we play the injured drifter card and sucker some fool into letting us stay in their place?," Clara asked, her baby blues locking with her sisters.

Abigail laughed. "I knew we were related," she mused.

Clara simply smirked and made her way back to the main road, hoping someone would drive up. Luck must have been on their side, because headlights came toward them and started to slow. "Here's hoping that's not a serial killer."

"Please, sis, even injured and on the run, we can take those bitches out no sweat. I mean, did you see how the Aconite clan crumbled at our feet? And we didn't even have our warriors backing us when we checked the perimeter." Abigail took Clara's annoyed look as her cue to play injured.

Clara watched as a man that looked to be in his early sixties came out of the truck and strode toward them. He took a look at them. She was sure they looked a little rough. Though the Aconite's had been taken by surprise, it didn't mean they weren't fierce witches. Even though Abby and her sister were just as fierce, they still got caught a few times. "M-mister," she stammered, making her eyes water, "my sister's real sick. Do you know somewhere we can hold up until she gets better? I'm thinkin' it might just be a cold."

The man frowned and gave them a suspicious glance before letting out a sigh. "I think I know a place, and I've got a friend who's a doctor. He can come by, look at her, and give her something to make her better."

Clara didn't even need to think about her next lie. "I'm afraid that's not going to work, mister. Conventional medicine goes against our religion."

She could almost hear Abby's snide comment, _Is that the best you could come up with?_, she'd ask as soon as they weren't having to be actresses for strangers. Clara was sure a very Abby-like look would accompany that, letting Clara know that Abby thought she was stupid.

"Well, all right," the man said, offering his hands. "Here, let me help you get her into the truck and I can take you over to my friend's place."

Clara didn't tell the man that she couldn't carry Abby by herself, and let the man help her get her in the cab of the truck. She got in the passenger's side and pulled Abby to her, wrapping a long, slender arm around her shoulders. "Thank you, by the way. I'm Dixie," she said, a little put off on how easily lies came to her. "and my sister's name is Jackie."

The man chuckled at the made up names, but accepted them nonetheless. He wasn't in any place to be asking a stranger about themselves, so he simply put the car in drive and continued toward his destination. "You can call me Old Quil."


	3. Chapter 3

"Is he gone?"

Clara glared at her sister. "Would you hush? He might not be here but others are. The man has a son, you know." She didn't wait to hear a response, but watched from the cracked door. She only hoped it was a matter of time before he left, too, just like his old man a few hours earlier.

As if Fate was on her side, the boy-man that had been standing in his room came out of the room and went back up the hall. When Clara heard the front door shut, she breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door to the tiny bedroom they had been staying in. "About damned time," Abby hissed, throwing the covers off of her. "Think we can conjure up some clothes? These stink of the ash of shitty fighters."

Clara snorted a short laugh and shook her head. "Those Aconites were some bad sons-of-bitches but that doesn't mean we're supposed to revel in their deaths," she commented. Abby's eyebrows disappeared into her hair at her sister's comment, but she didn't respond. Instead, she kept her eyes on her sister as she stood up. "And I want to try and keep the magic to a minimum in case they've got trackers on us."

"No magic?" Abby shook her head and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. "Forget that."

"We might be able to get away with small stuff like suckering some poor sap out of his car by manipulating this thoughts but, I don't know, pulling things literally from thin air is some big stuff." Clara sighed.

Abby rolled her eyes in contempt. "So, what, we're going to start robbing people?"

The two Wilkes sisters crept around the very nice looking two story house, making sure they kept incredibly quiet. Clara knew this probably spelled out the beginning of a nasty habit, but at least she and her sister had been smart about it. They had hitch hiked to the next town – a place called Forks – and targeted a few places there.

Clara knew that, had they stolen something from the place they had been in – a Native reservation called _La Push_. Clara had to laugh at that. -, then someone would have known it was them. At least, they would be the first to be accused. Two girls show up there and all of a sudden people's things go missing?

"No cars in the drive," Abby informed her.

Clara closed her eyes and reached out with her mind. "No one inside either," she commented as she touched the edge of one of the windows above their heads. With her hands pressed against the panes of the window, she pushed in a little and up. The window eased up and she smirked.

Abby gave her a look of disapproval. "What if they had had an alarm system in place?," she asked, sounding every bit the responsible one.

Clara shrugged her shoulders and hoisted herself onto the windowsill. "It's a good thing they didn't, huh?" She slid into the house and stuck her hand out of the window. Abby grabbed onto it, casting a look around to make sure no one had seen them. After getting her sister inside, she huffed. "All right. We need the essentials- clothes, money, you know."

Abby nodded and disappeared out of the room, calling, "Got it," over her shoulder.

Clara's baby blue eyes looked around the room she stood in. It was messy, and obviously a boy's room. There were posters of tattooed girls in bikinis on the walls. Clothes thrown carelessly around the floor. A set of weights sitting on a black shelf. On the same shelf sat a picture frame with a picture of two boys on it- a boy with light blonde hair and eyes the same color as she had, and a baby face and dimples. The other boy next to him had the same blonde hair and eyes, but he had a stony face. Like he was trying not to smile and look normal. Clara made a face at the picture. "Sorry, kid, but no matter how good looking you two are, we're still taking your shit," she said, turning the picture frame face down on the shelf. It felt weird robbing someone when they're pictures were staring at you with accusing eyes.

_Inhaling all that Patchouli has definitely affected the amount of oxygen able to get to your brain_, Clara thought as she searched the room for something to put the stuff she'd steal in. She found a black duffel bag and grinned, unzipping it. She was hit with a horrid odor and recoiled, tossing it to the side. "Ugh," she grunted, fanning the air around her. "That is gross."

Clara pulled open the drawers of the dresser and shifted through all the clothes. When her hand fell on something thick, she grinned and pulled her hand back with a wad of cash in it. "Bingo," she said giddily, pocketing it. Part of her felt guilty for taking the kid's money. But, really, he should put it in a more secure place.

After all, any random person could break into their house.

Clara laughed at her own joke and looked around the room. "Nothing at all interesting now," she mumbled, and went out of the room to the next room. It was a little neater- gender neutral, with no real personalization in it at all- so she figured it was a guest room. Still, she checked the dresser and the closet. Nothing but blankets and other linen.

With a sigh, she went downstairs. Abby was standing in the living room looking flustered. "Clara," she said, sensing her sister enter the room. "You don't feel a little bad taking their stuff?"

Clara exhaled heavily and shrugged her shoulders, her fingertips brushing across the big screen television. "A little. Why don't we just take what money we can find and book it? We can't take any real stuff with us or else Old Quil and his kid are going to get suspicious as to how mysteriously we have belongings."

Abby nodded her head. "Good, because I've had no problem finding that," she said, smirking as she turned and fished a handful of crumpled bills from her pockets.

Clara laughed at the devilish look her sister gave her and then froze upon hearing the sound of tires pulling into the drive. She didn't have to tell her sister twice, and the both of them bolted up the stairs and dove out the window they'd come in, making sure it was shut behind them. The two of them ducked back into the forest and came back out a little ways down the street.

"Let's go get us some clothes and we can hitch a ride back to the reservation," Clara said, wrapping her arm around her sister's shoulder. She was sure that they looked every bit as normal as the rest of the people around here, aside from the way they were dressed.

They both still had the clothes from the attack on the Aconite clan the night before. Clara had tight black jeans that were ripped randomly from the attack. Her steel toed boots were dirty, and her skin tight halter was red the color of blood. Thankfully, because of the worn black leather jacket she wore, you couldn't see the bloodstains that covered the back of her shirt from when she'd rolled into a pool of Aconite blood.

Abby was dressed almost identically, except that she wore no jacket and her shirt had been black. Clara looked down at her little sister as they turned onto a new block. Abby had barely aged since she'd come into her powers so many years ago. She looked like a young teenager – no older than thirteen or fourteen in appearance. Her face was soft in the way that only youthfulness could supply, and her baby blue eyes held an innocence in them that she still possessed. Despite everything that had happened in a little over two hundred years of life.

Abby quirked a light blonde eyebrow up at her sister, "Why do you keep looking at me like that for?," she asked, clearly uncomfortable.

Clara shrugged her shoulders and paused. "I'm just glad that you can pass as at most seventeen. You could still have a shot at normalcy." Clara frowned. "At least for a little while, anyway." Clara, getting frustrated that this was taking so long, stuck her thumb out and hoped someone would stop.

Abby grimaced. "The only way either of us would be normal is if we quit using our powers. And even then," - Abby shook her head, frowning -, "I don't think we could. It's too engrained in our systems. We stay in a place for awhile and then move once people start getting suspicious about us not aging. We're nomads- and you can never have a normal life being a nomad."

Clara shrugged her shoulders. "Unless, of course, you wanted to marry one of the boys from our clan?" She cast her sister a hopeful look, which received a very amused one in return.

"Highly unlikely. The only boy that doesn't get on my nerves is Adam, and that's because he doesn't talk. Much."

Clara laughed and shook her head, grateful that a car was rolling to a slow stop near them. "Well, maybe you can have some fun with one of the locals. We're only going to be here for a little while anyway."

Abby shrugged her shoulders and didn't respond to that. Instead, she cast a smile at the girl who pulled up beside them in the very expensive looking car. Abby didn't think a car like that belonged in a place like this.

"Do you guys need a ride?," the girl asked, looking behind her car to see if anyone was coming.

Clara nodded her head. "Yeah, is there a Wal-Mart around here?"

The girl nodded her head and gave them a friendly smile. "I could take you there if you want, and drop you guys back off."

"Cool, thanks," Clara said as she walked around the hood of the car. Abby just opened the passenger side door and hopped in the back. "I'm Dixie."

"Jackie," Abby piped from the backseat, smirking at the absolutely dreadful names her sister had given Old Quil last night. But, they were their favorites to use whenever they associated with outsiders.

"I'm Renesmee, but all my friends call me Nessie." The girl's amber colored eyes sparkled with interest as the girl took in the sisters' appearances. She pulled back onto the road and headed toward the Wal-Mart, attempting to get a feel for the girls.

After a long while, they finally pulled into the parking lot of the department store. The three girls walked across the lot and into the store. Abby finally spoke as she grabbed a shopping cart. "Hey, Nessie," she said, looking at the girl's choice of clothes.

From an objective standpoint, Nessie had a great body. Abby wrinkled her nose at the unflattering baby doll top that the girl wore, and the designer jeans. The designer jeans didn't look too half bad, but Abby could tell that Nessie didn't like them; that the style of clothes she wore didn't suit her one bit.

Clara caught onto what Abby was thinking and laughed, before draping an arm around Nessie's shoulders. "How old are you Nessie?"

"Uh, seventeen," Nessie said slowly, confused and more than a little weary.

Abby smirked. "Then why the fuck are you dressing like a preteen?"

Nessie shrugged her shoulders and ran a hand through her bronze locks, feeling more than a little self-conscience. "Uh, my aunt bought my clothes. She wants me to dress girly?" Nessie offered that to them, because it was true. Alice had taken it upon herself to buy all of her clothes because she thought Nessie had no fashion sense whatsoever. It wasn't true. Nessie just didn't like frilly, brightly colored, _girly_ clothes.

"Right," Clara drawled, "Well, my sister and I are going to do you a little favor. We've got to get some new clothes and, well, we're going to be getting you some too. Because, quite frankly, you look too good to be dressing like miss goody-two-shoes."

"I don't dress like a goody-two-shoes." Nessie's tone was defensive, and she knew it. She also knew that, despite knowing these girls for only about half an hour, that they could tell she didn't like her clothes. Despite looking and feeling like a teenager, Alice and the rest of her family still treated Nessie like she was a toddler. _Technically_, Nessie thought, _I'm only about seven. But no one really needs to know that._

Abby snorted and grabbed a dark haired boy that had been walking toward the exit. She gave him a slow smile and felt his pulse quicken beneath her fingers that latched onto his wrist. "Hey, sugar," she said, pulling him to her sister and Nessie. "Tell me what you think when you see our friend here," she told him, jerking her chin in Nessie's direction.

Nessie grimaced at Abby and Clara. They were nice girls, but, God, did they know how to embarrass her, or what?

The boy smirked at Nessie, his hazel eyes giving her body a slow and thorough once-over. She blushed. "She's hot," the boy said with a lazy smile, "but I think she'd look better dressed like you guys." He shrugged. "She seems like the feisty type."

Nessie silently agreed, thinking back to the times where she'd put Jacob and his friends in their places for being rude to her family- and of the times when she'd all but smacked Rosalie and her father, Edward, for calling the wolves derogatory names. _Yeah_, Nessie said internally as she smiled externally, _that sounds about right._

Abby grinned and winked at the boy. "Thanks for your help," she said, pushing him away and watching as he simply shrugged and left the building. She turned her attention back to Nessie. "As your new friends, we did that for your own good."

Clara nodded. "See? Fate brought us together to knock some sense into that head of yours."

"All right, all right," Nessie said with sigh, "I give my full consent to be your doll. As long as I don't wind up looking like an idiot or a slut." _Because Mom and Dad would murder me if I came back home with hooker heels._

Clara and Abby linked hands with Nessie and all but dragged her to the clothes section. Clara and Abby shared a look as they eyed the selection of clothes in the junior's section. They had slim pickings but, hey, they could work with anything. "Let's get to work."

* * *

><p><strong>AN;; First off, thanks to DefenderOfThePeople for the reviews :) And thanks to those folks who favorited the story. I'm not too thrilled about this chapter, but the pack's going to be arriving soon. Eeep, I adore the wolf pack :P Leave a review?**

**V**


	4. Chapter 4

It was around nine o'clock that night, and the three girls were just getting back to Old Quil's place. Nessie had to call her parents to let them know where she was at, and Clara smirked when she told her parents that she was with some guy named Jacob.

Nessie and Abby headbanged around the sleek, black Aston Martin that belonged to Nessie's dad. Clara was seriously considering meeting the man just so she could manipulate him into giving it to her. It was a damned sexy car.

"Come on, sis, have a little fun!" Abby locked her hands around Clara's right hand and Nessie laughed, grabbing Clara's left one.

"She's right. Ever since I picked you guys up, you've been all tense."

Abby snickered. "Nah, Ness, she's always like that."

Nessie snorted and shook her head, she and Abby pulling Clara off the hood of the car. "One song," Nessie pleaded, her amber eyes wide and innocent as she turned on the puppy dog face.

Clara narrowed her eyes at the girl that, once relaxed out and out of her shell, reminded her a lot of Abby. "Fine, fine," Clara said, and at that exact moment the song changed. She shook out her limbs and let her head bob to a song by Godsmack that Isaac used to play whenever he had a day off from guard duties.

She smirked, letting out a throaty growl to match Sully's. While Nessie watched on with shocked eyes, she and Abby took turns belting out the words to "Awake", and playing the air instruments to go along with it. Naturally, Clara would be drums. She always was. If only she could play the _actual_ instrument.

When the song finally ended, she leaned against the hood of the Aston Martin, propped up by her elbows. One leg was bent and propped against the front of the car, her head bobbing to something unfamiliar but still a little heavy. She smirked at Nessie. "You know, kid," she said, "you ain't half bad once you get out of that shell of yours."

Nessie blushed and waved a dismissive hand at her compliment. "Unless my uncle's the only one home, I can't really let loose like this. He'd like you guys. So would my boyfriend's friends."

"Here that, sis?," Clara said over the music that came from inside of the car. Abby raised an eyebrow at her and she grinned. "Her boyfriend's friends would like us." Clara turned her attention back to the bronze haired girl. "Any of them around fifteen or sixteen?"

Nessie nodded her head, "Two of them- Brady and Collin. They both just turned sixteen."

Before Clara or Abby could respond, a truck came pulling into the yard and Nessie's eyebrows jumped into her hair. Clara didn't miss the look, and neither did her sister. When Old Quil cut the engine, he got out of the car. He gave a surprised look at Nessie and then broke out into a grin. "Hey, Nessie!" He tucked his hands into his jean jacket. "What are you doing here?"

Nessie smiled at the old man. "Just hanging around with my new friends," she said simply, gesturing to Clara and Abby. "I didn't know they lived with you."

Old Quil shook his head at the same time Clara piped up. "Drifting. We're hitch hiking back home, but Abby got sick and Old Quil picked us up and let us stay at his place."

He nodded his head. "And you two are welcomed to stay as long as you need. I'm sure my son and his friends won't mind having two beautiful ladies around."

Abby and Clara smirked and Nessie giggled. "Yeah, Paul's going to have a heart attack when he sees Dixie."

Clara raised an eyebrow. "Paul, huh?"

Old Quil snickered. "Well, there all over at Em's house eating like usual. I'm sure they won't mind if I brought you guys over. Besides, Jake's been meaning to see you, Nessie."

Nessie's face brightened. "Cool, we'll follow you there, okay?"

Clara pulled Abby to her as Nessie and Old Quil got in there cars. Holding up a finger so that Nessie knew they would get in the car in a minute, she leaned down to whisper in her sister's ear. "Try to have a little fun here, Abigail. I hate seeing you alone."

Abby narrowed her eyes and shoved her sister back. "I don't need anybody around. We're never in one place long enough to make it worth anything."

Clara shrugged her shoulders. "We've got a little over a month until the next sabbat. If you haven't found anyone you can care about and that will care about you by Samhain, then we'll leave. I'll have the clan move here if you do."

Abby's eyes widened and her fingers absently went to pull at the ends of her blonde hair. "You'd do that for me?"

Clara smiled. "Let's face it; Dad isn't coming back anytime soon. Until then, this clan is mine and they have to do what I say. Besides, this is an awesome place for elemental magick."

Abby's bright face was wiped free of emotion as she moved toward the Aston Martin. "Deal," was all she said as she got in the back seat.

Clara nodded her head, but knew that Abby wouldn't try to find someone. Abby wouldn't even _look_ for anyone, and would probably push away anyone that she did find. It was always the same. She never wanted to have to answer why she didn't age, why she knew things no one else did, or why she had to disappear randomly. Clara respected her for that, though, despite the fact she disagreed.

Even if she was guilty of it herself.

They didn't pay attention as Nessie quickly caught up to Old Quil and followed him down the roads. While Abby's mind mulled over the deal she'd made with her sister, Clara's was focused on her clan and the Atropa coven of witches from Missouri that were attempting to assert their place into the magickal community.

It wouldn't be long before some of her people went missing. It meant she needed to speak to Isaac and she needed to speak to him now. But how could she? The only way to do that was to summon him and that was a big, shiny, neon sign that said "Hey, you hags from hell, come and kill me!". But, in all honesty, would those Atropites really have people watching them?

And why the hell was she actually _afraid ? _Her clan wasn't with her and she and Abby were more than capable of handling themselves. Clara made up her mind. The following night she was going to summon Isaac. She was going to warn him to post guards with every family within the clan until Samhain.

And she was going to summon their familiars. They would guard her and her sister.

"Yo, are you getting out of the car, or what?" Abby's annoyed voice asked as she tapped on the car's window. Clara scowled, opening the door and making sure to hit her sister with it as she did so. She shut the door behind her. "I told Nessie to go ahead. I like making a grand entrance," Abby said, fluffing her blonde hair to make it look tousled in a way that made her look older, sexier.

Clara laughed lightly, draping an arm around her sister's shoulders. "Sometimes, baby girl, I swear you were my own."

Abby shot her a smile full of mischief as they ascended the stairs. "I'm going first. After all, _beauty_ before _bitches_."

Clara narrowed her eyes as her sister pulled the tight black halter up to expose more of her toned stomach, adjusted her bra, and took off her jacket. Abby threw it at her sister – who caught it with an amused look to her sister – and opened the door.

Abby walked in, her hips swaying side to side slowly. The confidence in her sister was almost tangible, and she knew that Abby was unconsciously bumping her aura to give off that "I'm-sexy-and-can-drop-you-like-a-sack-of-potatoes" vibe.

Clara shook her head, walked in, and shut the front door behind her. "Sorry it took so long, Ness," Clara muttered to the bronze haired girl who was wrapped in the arms of a very tall, very handsome man, who was shirtless and radiated authority. "Jacob, I'm guessin'?"

Nessie flashed her a look not unlike the mischievous one Abby gave her before they'd walked in here. "Yeah, this is my boyfriend."

Clara nodded her head in greeting, "Dixie."

Jacob grinned, looking like a troublesome boy. "I know. Nessie told me. By the way, thanks for taking her shopping."

Clara smirked, watching the man's hands grip Nessie by the hip. "Well, well, Ness," Clara said, laughing, "and you were so against letting us deck you out."

Nessie wasn't wearing the baby doll top anymore, but they'd let her keep the jeans. Instead of the baby doll top, she was wearing a red Skittles tee shirt that said:** Taste the Rainbow**. It had been Clara's idea to get a scrunchie and pull the shirt tight around Nessie's torso, tying it in the back and tucking the little cloth pony-tail under so it exposed some of her stomach and back.

Nessie, on the other hand, was the one that had suggested they buy razor blades and slash up her jeans to give them a kind of worn look. Nessie had tossed her flats and bought a pair of black boots. They weren't steel toed, so she probably wouldn't be kicking ass in them, but they were hot nonetheless.

She'd definitely gotten Clara's and Abby's seal of approval. Clara gave Nessie and Jacob another look, watched as he whispered something in Nessie's ear. _Apparently, she got Jacob's seal of approval too_. Nessie giggled, smacked him, and grabbed Clara and Abby by the wrist. Nessie dragged them into the kitchen, where it seemed everyone had congregated. "Guys, these are my new friends. This is Jackie."

Abby gave them a slow smirk and said, "Hey, there."

"And this is Dixie, Jackie's sister."

Clara nodded her head in greeting at the kitchen filled with half naked men. Aside from Abby, Nessie, and herself, the only other girl was the one behind the counter. She was gorgeous in Clara's opinion. Her skin was a dark russet color, and her hair was a black the color of the midnight sky- and pin straight. The pink scars that ran from her left temple to the bottom of the right side of her jaw made her look even more gorgeous. Clara smirked. "You remind me of a friend of ours," Clara said to the woman.

Abby cocked her head to the side and then nodded, grinning. She looked just like Elizabeth- Isaac's wife, even right down to the scars. Except, Elizabeth's had been caused by a run in with a rogue werewolf. "Yeah, you wouldn't by chance know how to use a bow and arrow, would you?"

The woman looked taken aback for a moment, but then smiled widely at them. "Actually, I do. I'm a pretty good shot, too." The woman came from behind the counter, wiped her flour-caked hands on her jeans, and held out her hand. "I'm Emily Uley."

Clara was stunned by the warmth and kindness that radiated off the woman, and by the gentleness of her voice. She might have looked like Elizabeth, but she certainly didn't act or talk like her. Clara reached out to shake Emily's hand, but was enveloped in a hug. Clara laughed, feeling as if she were stepping into her own mother's arms.

Abby hugged Emily, too, and both girls stepped back from the woman. Needless to say, they were shocked. The woman laughed, as if knowing exactly how they felt. "Right, well, let me introduce you to the guys. That's Quil-"

"-One of you snores," Quil blurted.

Clara snickered as Abby glared. Before Abby could do something to make another enemy, Clara cut her off. "Yeah, she's almost as bad as you, kid."

There was a brief moment of silence before laughter filled the kitchen. Quil narrowed his eyes, but he laughed too. "The one beside him is Seth – the energetic one; Then there's Collin – the nerd; Brady – the jock; Jared – the metalhead; Embry – the silent one; Paul – the one with the short temper; Jacob – the mechanic; Sam – the boss; and Leah -"

"-the Bitch." It was the ones Emily introduced as Paul and Jacob that had said it.

And it was those two that got malevolent glares from three women, and a stoic glance from Leah. Clara scowled. "So that would make you two the Dick and the Asshole, huh?"

Leah snorted a laugh and inclined her head to Clara in what was a small thanks.

Abby had a similar scowl on her face, but let it go. "Sorry about that. My sister don't take kindly to names."

"She sure doesn't have a problem dishing them out," Paul muttered.

Before Clara could snap at him, the entire room went silent. Nessie's lips formed a perfect 'O', and all eyes snapped to Clara. She took an involuntary step backwards. It was amazing; she could stand in front of thirty or more witches and feel absolutely fine, but the moment a couple strangers stared at her, she freaked out.

Thankfully, someone spoke up. "How does Quil know Jackie snores?," Seth had asked, looking at her.

Old Quil came into the kitchen, then, and grabbed a cookie from the large platter that Emily was setting down on the counter. "They stayed at our place last night."

"We hitched a ride. Jackie got sick and Old Quil was kind and let us stay the night," Clara said. Abby shifted so that she was closer to her sister than the table of guys that stared at them curiously.

Seth nodded. "Sooo, where are you guys from?"

"We live in Vancouver," Clara told him. It was the truth. They did live in Vancouver, in a big two story house and six acres of land.

Emily clapped her hands. "So! Cookies are done, who wants some?"

The kitchen buzzed as a sea of half naked men scrambled toward the platter of freshly baked cookies. When they moved away, the platter was empty and Emily was putting another one on top of it. Clara, Nessie, Abby, Leah, Old Quil, and Emily all split that platter.

Leah headed toward the living room and Clara followed suit with her glass of milk and her plate of cookies. Leah shot her a sideways look and Clara smirked. "Chill, I'm from the planet Earth and I come in peace."

Leah laughed, her near-black eyes studying Clara. "Dixie, huh?"

Clara gave Leah a look she didn't understand before nodding her head. "Yeah, you can call me that." Leah raised a dark eyebrow at that, before she gave a knowing smile. Clara didn't dare ask what that was all about. Last thing she needed was for someone to get too nosy. "So, tell me something, Leah."

"What's that?"

Clara took a big gulp of milk to wash down the cookie, and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. "I sense a little hostility between you guys. What's that all about?"

Leah grimaced and shook her head. "Something in the past."

Clara licked the melted chocolate from her top lip and nodded. "It's cool. You can tell me later once I win everyone over with my charming disposition." Both girls laughed as Clara waggled her light blonde eyebrows. "I think you should enslave them all. You know, girl power and whatnot."

Leah laughed. "Yeah, I've thought about it." Leah tucked her short black hair behind her ears and ate another cookie whole.

"We're gonna be staying around here until October. Know any places that are hiring?"

"Sam owns an auto shop. We all work there," Leah told her.

Clara nodded. "Does he work good on odd schedules? Like, say, if I had to run out real quick?"

Leah smiled. "Yeah. Very flexible work hours."

Paul came sauntering into the living room and plopped himself on the love seat next to Clara. Clara quirked an eyebrow at the smirk he gave her. Leah cleared her throat. "Right, well, nice talking to you, _Dixie._"

Clara laughed. "You too." Then she turned her attention to Paul, who'd moved his arm behind her to rest across the top of the couch. "What do you want, Paul?"

Paul smirked. "I can think of a few things."

Clara snorted. "I'm sure you can, kid."

"Kid?" Paul sat up. "I'm older than you are. You're what, seventeen?"

Clara didn't want to comment that, technically, she was old enough to be his great-to-the-umpteenth-degree grandmother. Instead, she answered with the age she stopped aging. "Nineteen."

Paul smirked. "Legal. I like it."

She couldn't help it. She laughed. "Yeah, I bet. And how old are you?" She guessed maybe mid to late twenties.

"Twenty-six."

"Hm," Clara said, "Older. I can dig it." Again, she had to bite back a laugh at the blatant lie that he fell for. He gave her a devilish smile and leaned forward to mirror her position – forearms resting on thighs – and leaned to whisper in her ear.

"Why don't we go back to my place?"

She had to laugh. "Because I don't know you."

"You could," Paul whispered seductively, his warm breath blowing across her skin.

For a moment, Clara couldn't think straight. Fight against the shiver that wanted to rocket down her spine, she turned her head so that her lips were at his ear. "Down, Cujo," she said, laughing as her teeth grazed his earlobe. She stood up with her empty plate and empty glass and went to the kitchen. She turned the faucet on and quickly washed her glass and plate before putting them in the drainer.

Emily smiled at her. "You didn't have to do that, sweetheart."

Clara smiled at the woman and shook her head. "It's not a problem. I can do the rest if you want."

Emily hesitated before nodding and heading to the counter to grab the platters and the empty glasses and plates from the table. She was having trouble carrying them and, before Clara could offer to help, Paul came from the living room and grabbed them all from her. "Go relax, Em," he told her, "besides, Sam wants you."

Emily didn't have to be told twice. She ditched her apron on the table and headed into the living room. Clara narrowed her eyes at Paul before filling the sink with hot water and dish detergent. "Are you in here to annoy me?," she asked, knowing the answer had to have been yes.

Paul put the plates down on the counter and pinned her against the counter. "Actually, I came to change your mind."

"Huh," Clara said. She let her fingertips slid across the skin of his shoulder. When he turned his eyes to follow the motion, she opened her mouth and let a command out that was barely above a sigh, "_Step tergum." _

Paul froze before taking an automatic step back. He blinked and his eyebrows knitted together while he tried to clear his head. Clara tilted her head, looking every bit as innocent as she wasn't. "Something the matter?"

When Paul's eyes went back to hers, she raised an eyebrow, internally delighting in the fact he was as clueless as ever. Clara smirked as he turned around and walked out.

Clara – 1 ; Paul - 0


	5. Chapter 5

"Come on, Abs, you're getting a little rusty!"

Clara let out a hearty laugh as Abby's face twisted in contempt at her sister's words. "Bitch, please," Abby snapped, aiming a kick to Clara's face.

Clara grinned, ducking her head a fraction of a second before Abby's heel would have connected with her temple. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Here I was thinking this was going to be a challenge!"

She grabbed Abby's leg before it went back down and yanked her sister back. Abby lost balance and hit the ground with a muffled _"Oomph_."

Clara reached into her boot, thankful that she hadn't misplaced the stupid dagger she kept there. She tossed it from hand to hand while her sister got to her feet. Clara flashed her a wicked grin, charging. Abby had the sense to step out of the way before meeting each of Clara's hits with her forearm, not even wincing when the sharp edge of the blade bit into her skin.

"No fair with the blades!," Abby shouted.

The two girls stopped their sparring and Clara rolled her eyes. "Fine, but whose fault is it that you lost yours?"

"Bite me, hellbitch," Abby snapped, aiming a punch at Clara's face.

Clara ducked and then almost screamed in frustration when she realized Abby had faked her out. Instead of the face, Abby directed her punch toward Clara's solar plexus. Clara coughed, clutching her stomach. Her eyes narrowed and she aimed her hands toward Abby's throat. When she caught her by the throat, she tossed her toward the Arteara house.

Abby skidded across the back yard, hitting the side of the house. She shot up with a growl and charged. Clara grinned, charging straight toward her sister. Abby's hands locked down on the hollow of her collarbone and Clara's fingers pressed against Abby's windpipe.

Their eyes were narrowed in defiance, wanting the other to give first, but it didn't happen. Soon, black dots started to dance across their eyes. "All right, draw."

"Draw," Clara agreed.

They stepped away from each other. Clara wiped the sweat from her forehead, loving how her heart hammered in her chest and the adrenaline coursed through her veins. Her fingers flexed at her sides. She wanted to call it a draw. She really did. But the adrenaline wouldn't let her.

As if on the same thought track, Abby's hands locked around her head and Clara found herself being thrown toward the ditch in the front yard. Clara hissed, angling her body so that she hit her knees instead of landing on her back.

She stood up and dusted off the sleeves of her jacket. Abby smirked, "Bring it."

Clara smirked, rushing toward her sister. As Abby's hands went to block an attack that Clara wasn't going to deliver, Clara used her sister as a prop to propel herself over Abby. Clara's foot connected with the base of Abby's spine and sent her flying forward. Abby got up to scramble away, but Clara grabbed her by the ankle, her eyes rimmed with red. With a burst of strength, she tossed Abby passed the side of the house and into the front yard. It was payback for knocking her in plain sight.

Abby shot to her knees as Clara came forward, aiming a kick to her ribs. Abby laughed, filled with confidence, as she locked a hand around Clara's ankle and jerked her forward. Abby drove the heel of her hand into Clara's solar plexus again, coupling it with a shot to her sacral chakra.

Clara hit the ground, gasping for air. "You're getting quicker," she panted. Abby went to slam her foot into Clara's abdomen, but Clara rolled out of the way, knocking Abby at the back of her knees. Abby's head hit the damp ground with a _thud_, which made Clara laugh. "But not quick enough."

"What's going on out here?"

Both girls bolted upright and attempted to dust themselves off. It was no use; they were too dirty. Three hours of nonstop sparring – going all out with no reservations – was a solid guarantee to ruin your best dress. Abby huffed, narrowing her eyes at her big sister. "You owe me a rematch."

Clara laughed. "Whatever you say, short stop."

Quil came out of the house looking cranky. He came to a stop in front of the two girls. "What are you guys doing?"

They shrugged. "Rough housing."

Quil snorted. "Right."

"What, didn't think girls can fight?," Clara questioned, a unspoken challenge in her tone..

He shook his head. "Girls can fight, but you two? You're the poster children for teeny bopper."

Abby and Clara snorted. "Don't think you know us, Arteara. We may look sweet and innocent, but we can whoop anyone. Anywhere. Anytime," Abby said, her voice thick with pride.

"You can't me," Quil said.

"Bet."

Quil smirked and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, we can bet, but I want it to be at Sam's place where I have witnesses."

They shrugged and Quil cast them an amused look as he went back into his house. They figured he was probably brushing his teeth or something. Clara grabbed the dagger she'd ditched and shoved it back into her boot. The boots didn't exactly go with the shorts she was wearing, but she didn't care. If she'd worn tennis shoes (that she didn't own), there would have been nowhere to stick her weapon.

"Let's run there," Clara told Quil once he'd come back outside. She shrugged off her jacket and tossed it onto the porch. He shrugged his shoulders and she and Abby fell into a jog next to him. Clara had let Abby know as she as she'd woken up, that today they had to train as much as they could, and get plenty of energy in them, because they were going to need it. After they'd stretched and gone for a run that morning, they'd gone back to the Arteara house to practice fighting. Clara had immediately made it clear that neither of them was supposed to hold back because those Atropa witches sure as hell weren't going to.

Three summonings in one night was going to take some energy out of them for sure, especially since they were also going to attempt to shield their magic at the same time. Clara didn't want a run in with the witches from Missouri any more than she wanted to be a leader.

Clara smiled as the wind whooshed through her hair as they ran. She liked how that oh-so-familiar burning-tingling sensation spread throughout her her calf muscles. She saw the house that Nessie had taken them to last night, and she grinned. "I'll race you both. First one there gets ten bucks from the losers?"

"Sound good to me," Abby and Quil chorused.

"And no cheating," she said, shooting them both looks. They gave her fake innocent looks and all three of them hit dead sprints, shoving each other out of the way as they raced up the road. "I said no cheating!"

"You're shoving, too!" Quil.

"No I'm not!" Clara shouted.

Abby grunted as she pushed herself faster. "Both of you are shoving!"

"You started it!" Quil and Clara shouted in unison as they shoved Abby back.

Abby narrowed her eyes, shoving past both of them as she propelled herself toward the porch. Clara shot her a dirty look that meant _What. The. Hell, _but Quil hadn't noticed that Abby used her powers to win. Abby winked and blew her a kiss before holding out her palms. "Ten bucks, you losers."

Clara reached into her pocket and scraped out one of the ten dollar bills she'd stolen from that house. Quil shrugged past her. "My money's Sam's house."

Abby was on his heels as they entered the house and Clara laughed, cracking her knuckles. Quil smirked back at her and let out a howl that seemed to shake the house. A chorus of howls came from outside and Quil motioned for them to follow him.

They went out the back door and found a grill going and all the boys from last night lounging around the yard. Leah was propped up on a sun chair, looking bored and out of place. Clara jogged over to her and plopped down on her legs. "What's up?"

Leah rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but laugh. "Hey, Dixie."

"So, you reconsider enslaving them or no?" Clara laughed along with Leah, and then rolled her shoulders when she saw Quil motion her to him. "Prepare for a show," she said, popping Leah on the leg.

With a devilish smirk, Clara sauntered over to Quil. "I'm taking you on. I don't feel right fighting a little kid," he said, jerking his chin in Abby's direction.

Clara didn't comment, and shrugged her shoulders. "Up to you, boss," she said, bending to untie her boots. She slipped them off and stuffed the socks in, making sure to conceal her dagger. After wiggling her toes against the soft grass, she let out a breath and backed to a clear part of the yard. "Ready?," she asked Quil.

Sam gave Quil a look and he rolled his eyes. "I'll go easy on her, bro," Quil said to Sam, but cast a look to someone behind Clara. She didn't bother turning around to see who it was to.

Clara took that as an incentive to knock his ego down a few pegs. She dropped down and swept his legs out from under him. He hit the ground with a loud _thud_. She snapped back into a standing position as he came up in a crouch and inched toward her like some kind of predatory.

She quirked an eyebrow. _Well, this is going to be interesting_, she thought as Quil tackled her backwards. She laughed, using her knees to push him off of her and over her head. He narrowed his eyes and growled and walked backwards, her hips swaying as she held out her arms. "Come get me, baby," she said, her accent poking it's way into her words.

Quil ran at her, attempting to pin her down, but she flipped over his head like a pro. She knew she should probably tone down the theatrics, but they were too fun. As he came back, she turned and tried to land a punch to his throat. He blocked it with his forearm, knocking her hands away as he tried to get a hit in.

It was useless – hit for hit, both of them blocked and dodged. To onlookers, it looked as if they'd choreographed some kind of odd dance instead of the fight it was supposed to be. Until Clara slipped up. Like she'd fallen for it when Abby had done it, she fell for it when Quil feigned as if he were going to land a punch to her jaw. Quil ducked when she shot her fist out out to block it and knocked her feet out from under her.

Faster than should have been possible, Quil was hovering over her with his forearm to her throat. Clara laughed. "Baby, if you wanted to be on top, all you had to do was ask," she cooed, throwing her head forward and letting her forehead smack into his. He groaned, clutching his forehead. Clara locked her hands around his throat and slammed his back to the ground, her knees pinning his arms to the ground. She smirked down at him, "But I ain't ever been one for submission."

Abby let out a howl just like the one she'd let out when they'd watch the Aconite's covenstead burn to the ground. Clara laughed, stepping back and gripping Quil's hand and yanking him to his feet.

"I say it was a draw," Quil said, still rubbing his forehead.

Clara grinned and winked at him. "If it helps you sleep at night." Clara let out a sigh and went over to sit beside Leah.

"Damn," Leah said.

Clara shrugged her shoulders. "Me and my sister get bored, so we fight. Good times."

"Hell yes!" Abby shouted.

"Why was Abby howling?," Sam asked Clara, taking a seat at the big picnic that sat half the guys there. Clara shrugged her shoulders.

"Just a little thing we do is all. Especially in victory." Clara wiped the thin layer of sweat from her forehead. Her eyes locked with Paul's for a moment and the quick pulse she had didn't have anything to do with whooping Quil Arteara's butt.

Paul smirked at her, as if he could feel her desire. Before she could say anything to him – not that she was sure _what_ she was going to say anyway – she heard the sound of Jacob's voice asking her why she kept a knife in her boot.

Quil waggled his eyebrows at her before saying, aloud, "You heard her. She's into that S&M stuff."

To toy with them, she smirked. "Nah, just sadism. I just love it when they scream." Leah, Clara, Emily, and Abby all cackled.

"Hear that, Paul? She likes screamers," Quil shot his pack brother a look, that meant he knew exactly what he was doing. Not that Quil or any of the others needed an excuse to be lewd.

Paul snorted. "If anyone would be screaming, it would be her."

Clara's face erupted in flames as everyone laughed at her. Still, she couldn't help but shoot a response back to that. "Like you could make me scream. I can tell by looking at you that you don't have enough to get the job done."

Jared and Seth snickered from their places on either side of Abby. "Damn, man, she got you good."

Paul looked at her from the other side of Sam. "You want to bet?"

_Yes! Hell, yes, drop them sweats right now, baby_, she thought, but kept her trap shut. The only reason they were staying was for Abby. Instead, she gave him a sideways look. It was then she noticed the skies were darker than they had been. _Damn_, she thought. It seemed like they had just gotten there. She cleared her throat. "Anyone have the time?," she asked.

Emily nodded her head and looked at her watch. "It's about a quarter after seven," she reported.

Clara stood up and moved to pick up her boots. "It was nice hanging around with you guys, but we've go some place to be." Clara watched with an amused expression as Abby pecked Seth on the cheek and all but booked it into Sam and Emily's house.

"Not a word," Abby snapped as they got to the front yard. They clasped hands. "Are you sure we can do this without getting caught?"

Clara let out a heavy breath. "Not a clue. But if those hellbitches don't get us for materializing, then they'll get us for the summoning. Either way, we're not coming out of tonight without a few scrapes and bruises."

Abby shrugged her shoulders. "If you're ready, bring 'em on."

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks to Lorna Roxen and NeedCoffeeINeedItOrI'llExpload for the reviews :)<strong>

**You guys are awesome!**

**Next one's coming out tonight sometime (by tonight I mean anywhere from now until about 2am EST) :D**


	6. Chapter 6

"If you're ready, bring 'em on."

Sam Uley watched through the glass windows of the kitchen at the two girls. After hearing their exchange, he found his curiosity peaking. _Curiosity killed the wolf_, he could almost hear Emily's voice telling him that. He smiled, but kept a watchful eye on the girls.

In the time it took him to blink, they'd disappeared. He tensed and went out the front door, inhaling the air around him. There was no trail to pick up on whatsoever. It was like they'd just _vanished_. His first instinct was to call the pack and hunt them down, but a different part of him said to keep his mouth shut and follow them himself.

And, after getting a pair of sweats from is room, that's what he did. He phased, bit the sweats between his teeth, and attempted to find Dixie's and Jackie's scents. All he could catch was the smell of the trees.

_Hey, man, Emily got worried when you didn't come back. Everything all right? _It was Jacob's voice inside his head.

Sam focused on the grass in front of him, hoping Jacob wouldn't catch on to what had happened or to what he was doing. _I'm fine. Phase back, and tell the others not to phase._

_What?_ Jacob didn't bother to hide the suspicion. _Why, what's going on?_

_Nothing. I've got it. Now phase back, Jacob,_ Sam ordered. Even though Jacob didn't necessarily have to obey his orders, he was glad that Jacob chose to that time. It was an off-and-on thing; Jacob would only obey orders when he didn't have a problem with them. After it had turned out that Jacob had imprinted on the half-breed daughter of his sometimes-enemy and the pale faced girl he'd always hung around, Sam allowed him a little breathing room.

Thankfully, there was nothing but his own thoughts in his head. His mind back on the task at hand, he ran the entire perimeter of the pack's territory. He searched for what felt like hours before he finally caught the very faint smell of might have been dragon's blood incense. He shook his head and latched onto the scent, letting it lead him through the forest.

He wouldn't even know what dragon's blood was if Emily didn't burn incense in the house. Sam froze in his spot before the scent grew too strong. Dixie and Jackie sat half in the forest and half on the damp sand of First Beach.

"We have one shot at this," Dixie said to her sister, sounding as if she were exhausted.

Jackie grabbed her sister's hand. "Look at it this way, Clara, we can be gone as soon as we summon Isaac. He can take us with him."

_Clara? Isaac?_ _Summon?_, Sam's head was filled with questions, but he figured the best way to get answers was to cop a seat and eavesdrop.

Dixie – or, rather, Clara – shook her head. "Abby, I love you. And that means I'm not going back on our deal."

Jackie – or, rather, Abby – let out a hiss. "I'm making that deal null and void. I won't find anyone and I won't-"

"Seth. I saw you kiss him on the cheek." Clara sounded angry now, and her eyes flicked to the empty beach before returning to her sister.

Abby popped her wrists. "Just shut up and let's get this over with." Abby grabbed her sisters other hand roughly and closed her eyes, squared her shoulders, and exhaled.

Clara's eyes flickered to where Sam sat and he tensed as their eyes locked. Instead of calling him out, she closed her eyes, squared her shoulders, and exhaled. "Isaac Mathias Hawthorn – warrior of the Caledonia clan of witches, we summon you from your hiding! Come forth Isaac! Come forth now!"

"Fire, our element which fills us with determination and strength, stretch out! Bring the warrior upon which we call! Fire, bring us Isaac!"

Abby and Clara stiffened, their entire bodies exploding with white light. The ground beside them began to smoke and sizzle before erupting into a brilliant inferno of white, blue, black, and orange flames. The flames shifted, hissed, and licked at Abby and Clara's glowing bodies before shifting into the form of a man and completely extinguishing, leaving a very pissed off man standing there.

Sam knew he wasn't getting anymore answers by eavesdropping. He shifted back, dropping the sweats on the ground before picking them up and pulling them on. He came out of the forest, black eyes staring only at Clara. "What's going on here, Clara?," Sam asked, using the name that her sister had called her.

Clara held up a hand. "Later, Sam." She turned her attention back to the seven-foot man. He was massively built and wore a black tee shirt with the sleeves ripped off, his enormous biceps bulging from his tense stance.

"You know better than to summon me with the Atropa clan tracking our every move," Isaac spat, looking as if he were going to tear Clara's head off.

Clara scowled, causing Isaac's anger to deflate noticeably. "We know that. We summoned you to tell you to post warriors with each family."

"I mean no disrespect, Clara, but why do we not bring them here? It would be safer to have them near our High Priestess – so they don't panic." Isaac cast a semi-curious glance at Sam before turning his attention back to Clara.

She looked torn and, suddenly, older than nineteen. "I'm not bringing those witches here on his doorstep," she said after a few moments of silence, jerking her thumb in Sam's direction. She shook her head. "What would you do, Isaac?"

Isaac was silent for a moment, almost as if he were listening to something. Then, he put a hand on Clara's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I would ask our High Priestess. You may think you aren't capable of leading us, but the fact that your father left you in charge proves that you are. Make the decision and we'll follow you one hundred percent, Priestess."

Clara scowled before running her hands through her blonde hair. "Fine. Have them relocate to Forks – not La Push. Do _not_ let any of them go back to the covenstead. I want to be the first one there in case the Atropites or any other hellbitches decided to wait for us there."

Isaac nodded and disappeared into the air.

Before Sam could start tossing questions at Clara, a high pitched hiss filled the air – almost as if a giant snake was slithering toward them. "Leave, Sam! Now!," Clara snapped, pulling both Sam and Abby out of the forest.

"Fire, come to me!" A warm rush of heat smacked into them. "_Aperio!_" Fire shot forth from Clara's hands, plowing into the forest and wrenching a slithering shadow from behind one of the trees. The shadow squirmed. "Who are you?," Clara demanded, taking a step toward the shadow.

The shadow cackled before taking on the form of a woman with hair a purple so dark it was almost black. "You stupid little child!" The woman's eery gray irises disappeared as her pupils took over her entire eye.

"Ohhh, _shit_," Abby and Clara chorused. "Snap her neck, Fire! And reveal all others who have come to assist her!" The fire hissed before a sickening _crack_ echoed into the night.

Four other shadows squirmed. Abby hissed. "Those are just distractions!"

Clara nodded at the unspoken command and smacked her hands together. The shadows screeched in pain and Clara – devoid of all emotion except hate – let her left hand drop before miming a beheading motion. The shadows flickered, immediately becoming the bodies of a woman and three men. Their heads rolled and smacked into the first corpse that had resulted from the attack.

Abby let her hands out, "Water! You've helped us before out here and I'm asking you to do it again. Bring me the Atropa witch that led this attack!"

Black and teal jets of water shot from the ocean as Abby snaked her hands around what would have been a neck had there been something in front of her. The jets of water constricted before completely breaking to reveal the most horrifying and beautiful thing that Sam had ever seen.

She was tall, with skin a shade of gray that reminded him of ashes. Her jet black hair fanned out behind her as if it blended with the night sky. Her eyes were pupil-less and a black that literally looked as if it rippled in her eyes. She hissed at them before flinging her hand behind her. Abby cursed, feeling herself being thrown into the air by some kind of invisible force. "Oh, you add a whole new definition to the term Hag from Hell, lady," she snapped, letting the Water elementals go and focusing her own power at the bitch.

The woman tensed, a scream bursting from her throat. It sounded like a million voices all screaming out in agony at the same time, magnifying the loudest scream – that of a woman. "The name is Odessa, you little brat," the woman snarled, whipping around and throwing whatever it was that Abby had hit her with back toward Abby, but tenfold.

Abby screamed, collapsing and her body attempting to twist in ways that were completely unnatural. _Unnatural? You want to talk about unnatural? How about the three witches that are duking it out right in front of you? _Sam wanted to phase, but he didn't know what he could possibly do. After all, his experience only merited bloodsuckers.

And Odessa was most certainly not a bloodsucker.

Clara sent the fire straight at the woman, causing her to whip around and leave Abby panting for breath. Faster than Sam had ever seen anyone – vampire, werewolf, or human – move, Clara slid passed Odessa and picked Abby up off of her feet.

"Ooo, it's so nice of you to save your family," Odessa said, her tone patronizing and filled with some kind of sick joy.

Clara growled, flinging her hands toward the woman. Clara's hands pulled at the air as if she were trying to claw through the woman's chest. "No one hurts my sister," Clara hissed, taking a step toward Odessa.

Odessa's teeth gnashed together audibly before she broke through whatever power Clara had trapping her. Odessa's bony fingers grabbed Clara by the face and Odessa brought her face millimeters from Clara's. "You're a feisty little witch, I'll give you that much."

Sam watched as Odessa moved her other hand to Clara's stomach. The woman's bones snapped and cracked before elongating in what was most definitely claws. One of the razor sharp talons scraped across Clara's stomach repeatedly and Sam growled. Clara's fingers twitched in his direction – a movement that went unnoticed by Odessa – and he felt himself go rigid. _Why can't I move?_

Abby grabbed Clara's hand and the burst of light that had exploded from them earlier enveloped Abby. "Do it, Clara!," Abby snapped.

Clara mumbled something too quiet for even his ears to pick up, and she went limp. Abby, on the other hand, began to glow brighter as she smashed her fist into Odessa's face. Abby pinned the creature down and had a vice like grip on Odessa's wind pipe. "Die, you fucking bitch!" Abby snarled, eyes bursting with the same light as her body.

Odessa's talons swiped across Abby's face before her body dissolved into a thick shadow that seeped into the ground. Abby panted, waved two fingers sharply in Sam's direction, and dropped down beside her sister's body.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Abby cursed.

Clara, who was zoning in and out of consciousness, flicked her eyes in her sister's direction, breathing out the words, "Language, short stop," before inhaling sharply.

Sam wasted no time in picking up Clara. Abby grabbed his forearm. "Don't let go," she warned. Sam felt like he was about to throw up as the air shot around him. He couldn't feel any part of his body, but he _knew_ it was there. Somewhere. He couldn't open his eyes to see what was going on, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.

When his feet finally touched solid ground, his legs almost gave out under him. He gritted his teeth and pushed forward, nearly knocking down the front door of his house as he brought Clara into the kitchen and lay her on the kitchen table. "Emily, get in here," he said, loud enough for his wife to hear him.

"What's the matter, swe-," Emily stiffened at the sight of Clara on the kitchen table, her stomach gushing bright red blood onto it's wooden surface. "-etheart. Oh my God, what _happened?"_

Abby snarled. "There's no time for that. Can you stitch her up? Sam, I need three candles a piece for the colors black, magenta, gold, and silver! I need water, a strip of moss, and a box of matches."

Sam nodded and threw open the closet in the hallway, grabbing all of the emergency candles they had, the box of long matches, and the kinds of lighters you used on grills. Emily smacked the first aid kit down on the table and Quil rushed in with a handful of moss.

Paul came to the table with a bowl of water, looking terrified.

"I didn't have any color but white," Sam said, wondering exactly what she was going to do with them, but not asking, "and there are only seven of them."

Abby grimaced at her sister. "That's fine. Get her on the floor and hand me the candles!" Abby saw Paul and Quil quickly but gently lay Clara down on the floor of the kitchen.

Clara's blood began to turn black and she started to convulse. Abby forced the thought that her sister might die out of her head and struck one match, sending the flame to each of the candles. She didn't care that everyone but Sam had looks of astonishment on their faces. She placed the candles in a circle around Clara's body and motioned for Emily to step into the circle.

She scooped the strips of moss off the table and set it beside her, and grabbed the bowl of water. "No one come inside the circle of candles," she ordered.

Abby focused her thoughts on the bowl of water she swirled her finger into, silently invoking Venus to infuse it with healing powers. She dumped the water onto Clara's stomach after having ripped the fabric apart. "Heal," she ordered the water. _Gaea, please let this work_, she prayed, placing the moss on the wounds. Placing her hands over Clara's wounds, she spoke quickly, "Air, come now! Chase away Odessa's evil!" And, finally, she struck a match and lit the moss on fire.

It hissed before blazing a brilliant white, tendrils of black smoke being wrenched from Clara's body and sucked into the flames. Clara seized, her nails digging into the hardwood floors. "It's okay, it's okay, Clara. I'm getting that bitch's ick out of you and then Em's gonna sew you up."

When the fire turned to a normal color, Abby tossed it all aside. "Quil, more water!"

Almost instantly, Quil had the pitcher of water in her hands, making sure not to cross over the candles. Abby dumped it on Clara's stomach, washing away the moss and blood. "All right, Emily, sew her up."

"But they're too big. She needs a hospital."

"No," Abby snapped, "What she needs is for you to get your ass in gear. I'll hold the flaps of skin together and you just stitch her up, got that?"

Emily nodded as Abby pulled together the two biggest flaps of skin. Emily grimaced as she stitched up the worst of the wounds. But quickly and efficiently, all the wounds had been stitched up. Abby ushered Emily out of the circle, stood over Clara's body, and pooled together her last vestiges of strength. "Gaea!" A gush of wind blasted into the kitchen, though all the doors were closed. The wind smelled of pine and freshly tilled soil. "Heal my sister completely and take away that evil skank's darkness!"

Clara whimpered, her body going into convulsions. "Kali!" Abby hissed into the air, feeling a strong surge in her powers. "Make Odessa and all the other Atropa witches pay for what they have done to my sister!"

The surge of powers intensified, and Abby and everyone else in the room swayed as a wave of nausea crept on them. "Blessed be," Abby whispered as the candles blew out. Without so much as a blink, Abby collapsed onto the floor, unconscious.

Paul watched, his heart thudding violently in his rib cage, as Clara's face twisted in pain. He could hear her violent pulse as if it were his own. And each gasp for air that Clara took, Paul felt as if his sanity was being stripped along with her inability to breathe. Clara gave a final shudder before going limp against the floor, her eyes wide open and her heart beat agonizingly slow.

The pack, and Emily, stared down with wide eyes at the two girls that lay on the floor. One completely unconscious, and the other as if she were frozen where she lay.

Paul stumbled toward Clara, pulling her head into his lap. Her blue eyes stared up at him, but they weren't looking at him. They were looking past him. And she blinked, taking in a sharp breath, her hands tightening around the one that gripped hers. "Paul?," she asked, before following in her sister's footsteps and blacking out.

Were it not for the fact he heard her steady heartbeat, he might have thought she was dead. Still, he didn't move as Sam and the others started cleaning up the mess. He just held Clara as Seth and Quil moved her into the living room. It wasn't until Emily's soft hand rested on his shoulder that he realized he'd been crying, and that he'd almost lost his imprint.

**Thanks goes to Lorna Roxen for the review :)**

"**Aperio" - latin (roughly) for "reveal"**


	7. Chapter 7

Clara couldn't believe how sore she was. When her eyelids creaked open, she found herself staring up at a pale blue ceiling. She let out a groan as she slowly, stiffly, sat upright.

"She's awake!," she heard voices shout, but her blue eyes automatically landed on her sister. Ignoring the soreness in her body, she scrambled across the floor and to the couch where her sister lay. Part of her looked as if she were sleeping, while her aura said she was completely wiped.

"You stupid hellbitch," Clara muttered, smoothing back her sister's hair and placing a delicate kiss on Abby's forehead.

A warm hand rested on her shoulder. "Are you okay, Clara?," she heard a worried, male voice ask her.

Her eyes snapped to lock with a pair of almost black-brown eyes filled with fear, relief, and concern. She grimaced, nodding to Paul. "I'm fine," she said, not commenting on the fact he used her real name. It meant that Abby had called her that when she was healing her.

Clara looked back at her sister, trying to think of a way to repay her for saving her life. There was something incredibly nasty about Odessa and those other Atropa witches. Witches weren't supposed to have claws, and they most certainly weren't suppose to transform into dark mists. Odessa had been tainted by something way darker than simple dark arts. No, this went deeper than that.

Her fingers gingerly touched her exposed stomach, seeing the black thread in her skin. All of her wounds were healed now, aside from the biggest one. It was almost healed though, because it was nothing more than a nasty, jagged, pink line from just under her left breast to her right hip. She grimaced, latching onto Paul's arm. "Can you help me to the bathroom? I need a shower."

Paul nodded and helped Clara stand up and walk down to the bathroom. "If you, um, need anything-"

Clara gave him a smile – an actual _smile_, not a smirk – and nodded her head. "I'll be sure to call ya," she mumbled, limping toward the shower.

Paul smiled back at her, despite the unease he still felt. "I'll see if Emily will bring some clothes for you," he mumbled, shutting the door behind him. He went back up the hallway and turned a left into the kitchen, unable to keep the smile off his face.

"How is she?," Emily asked, sounding almost as uneasy as he felt.

He sighed, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. "She's fine, I think, but she's sore." Paul looked into his glass before turning his tired gaze to Emily.

She held up a hand. "I know, Paul, but she's better now. She's awake."

"She's not human," he mumbled, taking another sip of his drink.

Emily placed a hand on his forearm and gave him a knowing smile. "We both know that doesn't matter to you. You're only upset that she didn't tell you the second you two met."

Paul responded to that with a small smile, pouring his drink into the sink and rolling his shoulders. "You think she can borrow some of your clothes? She probably won't like them since they aren't black, leather, and sexy, but she'll get over it," he said, giving his un-imprinted packmates a dirty look. He'd heard the thoughts they had about her.

Seth snickered. "Look at Paul being all protective of his imprint," he taunted.

Paul didn't want to comment that he'd seen just how Seth looked at Abby, so he didn't. Instead, he raised an eyebrow at the sixteen year old wolf. "Excuse me for not wanting to hear their fantasies about Clara," Paul snapped, walking into the living room to sit on the couch Clara had just gotten off of.

Abby was still sound asleep on the other couch, curled against the throw pillows as if clinging for life. Clara had been so childlike in the way she slept. Whereas Abby resembled a small child in her fetal position, Clara had been sprawled out because she'd moved around in her sleep.

When he'd finished patrols, he'd checked on her. Her left leg was hiked over the top of the couch and her right arm was curled around the arm of the chair at her head, while her right leg hung off the couch and her left arm was propped against her left thigh.

Even asleep she was restless.

Paul turned his attention to the television that was reporting a tropical storm due to hit the west coast. He grimaced. A storm was never the best weather to go patrolling in.

"What's got you all grim for?" Clara asked, easing on the cushion beside him. By the way she moved, he could tell she was still sore.

What she had on shocked him. He'd only seen her three times, both of which she was wearing something that looked sexy, but also like she could kick some ass here and there. Now, she wore one of those pale blue summer dresses Emily liked so much. He smiled without thinking about it and said, "You look nice."

Clara's face twisted in discomfort. "Thanks, but I really look good in just about anything. Dresses, though, they just aren't my thing, I guess." Clara paused. "Not that I'm not grateful Emily let borrow some clothes. I couldn't very well go around naked."

"I wouldn't have mind," Paul said, giving her a slow smirk as she narrowed her eyes at him.

Her eyes were only narrowed a second before she laughed. "You'd better be glad I'm so sore," Clara said, trying her best to sound tough. But she was too tired and too weak to giving an insult any kind of oomph. She was going to take a break from being tough as nails.

Paul gnawed on his lower lip before sighing. "Sit on the floor," he told her.

"What?," she asked, confused.

He rolled his eyes. "Just trust me, all right?"

After a few moments, she sighed and slid off the couch and to the floor between Paul's legs. "Fine," she mumbled, "I trust you." Clara didn't have a clue as to what he was doing, until she felt his warm hands on her shoulders. Like a pro, he massaged the sore muscles of her shoulders, upper back, and neck.

His calloused hands were somehow smooth and gentle against her skin, despite the amazing pressure he applied. Clara's eyes drifted closed, her head slowly dropping forward as she melted under his touch. She found her lips curving up in a lazy smile.

Paul smiled down at his imprint, feeling her relax almost completely. His heart warmed for a reason he didn't fully understand and he brushed her beautiful blonde hair away from her neck, making sure not to press to hard on the muscles near her ears. He swallowed hard, trying to push away thoughts of him kissing her slender neck.

His hands moved just below her shoulder blades and he laughed as she nearly fell forward. Clara looked back at him, mock glaring at him. He mumbled an insincere apology and, boldly, pulled her to his lap.

Clara shivered as his hands moved from her the shoulder blades to massage the middle of her back. Because Abby had ripped most of her shirt up (thankfully leaving her upper torso covered). His hands didn't ever stray from the purpose. He was gentle and she found her soreness almost completely evaporating. Without thinking, Clara leaned against him, liking the way she fit perfectly against the curve of his body.

At the same time Paul was about to put his arms around her, she jumped up. Sam came into the living room with a serious look on his face.

Paul wasn't able to feel the cold, so why did it suddenly seem like all the heat had left his body? He looked up at Clara to see her eyes were locked on his alpha. "Sam," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. It was a voice he used on many occasion when talking to the Cullens. It said she didn't trust him, even if he was being hospitable and had helped in healing her.

Sam cleared his throat. "We'd like to discuss what you are, if that's all right." It wasn't a question, because his tone held finality.

Paul could tell Clara was a little irritated. "All right, but I can only tell you so much. Because you were there last night, Sam, and all of you helped heal me...I kind of owe you, but I'm going to put this out there and you can take it how you wish, but I don't take kindly to strangers bossing me around. I'm not a part of your little pack of shape shifters -" When Sam and Paul gave her a startled look, she laughed. "I saw you in your wolf form, Sam," she said casually, "I put together the pieces. All of these boys – and Leah – are your pack.

Like I was saying, I'm not. I'm not offering up my free will and I seriously hate being bossed around. I can't tell you everything you want to know, and I can't do everything you might ask. As you found out last night, I lead a clan. All decisions that involve the clan as a whole are made by my people. As a High Priestess, I give you my word that I will answer your questions to the best of my ability, and that I will not intentionally bring war to your people. Which is why my clan is moving to Forks. We all need to be together."

Sam was silent for a moment, taking in everything that Clara had said. "Is your word good?"

Clara nodded her head, half insulted he'd ask such a thing. "High Priestesses hold honor high, and breaking my oath would not be honorable."

He nodded. "All right. What about the woman from last night?"

Clara plopped down on the couch next to Paul, angling her body in Sam's direction. "Odessa, I'm assuming, is the leader of this clan of witches from Missouri. The Atropa clan, so named for _Atropa belladonna_ or just belladonna – a highly toxic herb used for astral projection. The fact that they named their clan after a forbidden herb should have been our first clue they were going to do something as reckless as fuck with the really dark stuff." Clara let out a heavy breath. "It's likely that there will be more and more coming now that I'm ordering the clan to move near me. We took out our biggest enemy, the Aconites – so named after wolfsbane – were some bad mofoes. They'll always be someone trying to prove they're bigger and badder. And that would be where the Atropa witches come in."

"When you say 'took out'..."

"Killed them. Not all of them. We aren't ruthless, you know. The ones that surrendered, and the children, we either take into our own clan or let them practice in peace so long as they reject their sinister practices. We're Black-Hoof witches – fierce warriors, _protectors_. Essentially creatures of light and you know the whole Cosmic Balance, good _and_ evil, blah blah. Anyway," Clara paused to breathe, "we only kill those who seek to corrupt and create little dystopias everywhere."

Sam licked his lips and leaned against the wall behind him. "We'll help you take them out."

Clara stood up, shaking her head. "No, I won't ask you to do that. If they were ordinary black arts witches, sure, but they aren't. Odessa was proof of that. The things- something isn't right. They're tapping into some incredibly raw, incredibly _dark_ power and it's some nasty shit. Odessa wasn't supposed to have claws, just like-"

Clara froze, realizing that the shadows they'd morphed into should have been a red alert. She turned from Sam and shook her sister awake. Abby looked around wildly, searching for some sign of danger. When she found none, she glared at her sister. "What th-"

"Shut up, get refreshed, get dressed, and get ready to meet with the clan."

Abby stood up and did exactly as she was told. Clara looked down at the slightly pretty dress she wore and waved her hand at herself. Instead of the dress, she now wore a pair of loose fitting jeans, her boots, a fitted black tank top with the words: **Bite me, **on it. An elastic hairband appeared in her hands and she quickly pulled her hair into a tight ponytail. The dagger that Jacob had found in her shoes the other day appeared in her hand, and she slid it into her boot.

"Help us with nomadic bloodsuckers and we'll help with the witches. We can't let you do it alone," Sam said suddenly, having watched Clara's display of magic as she geared up.

Abby came from behind Sam, looking almost the younger mirror to Clara as far as clothes went. "Let him, Priestess. We're going to need as many soldiers as possible if this gets dirty."

Clara gave Abby an odd look before turning her eyes to Sam with a curt nod. "We'll talk once Abigail and I get back from our meeting." Clara motioned for Abby to come to her. "Oh," she added, turning her attention to Paul. She leaned down to his ear and whispered, "Thanks for the massage," before pecking his cheek, linking hands with her sister, and disappearing into the air.

* * *

><p><strong>Lorna Roxen<strong>** – thanks for the review on the last chapter :)**

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	8. Chapter 8

It was, Clara thought, the closest thing to the perfect meeting place for the Caledonia clan. It was a clearing – wide open nothing surrounded by the dense forest. How they'd stumbled on it, she had no clue, but it was where they'd popped back into solid form.

Clara looked around her at all the familiar faces and, though part of her wished her dad would get his ass back from wherever he was, she was proud that they had accepted her as their leader. Even though some of them, namely Isaac, thought she could use a bit more training. Even so, they still backed her decisions. She cleared her throat and, thinking it best to just skip introductions and pleasantries, got straight to business. "Abigail, Isaac and his brothers, and I have already had run ins with the Atropites. They have chosen to ally themselves with something far more sinister and dark than any of us have come across, but we are certain that it is because they are tapping into Darkness itself."

The crowd of thirty-or-more people began to buzz with hushed whispers of shock, disgust, fear...

"Women and men above the ages of sixteen, if you wish to fight, so be it. If not, take as many children and elderly as you can and cloak yourselves and dematerialize. Find a safe place in Forks. If you have to, conjure up brand new identities and integrate yourselves automatically in the life. Charm anyone who might question it into thinking you've been there forever," Isaac ordered.

There was another buzz of noise in the crowd before half of them disappeared. The ones remaining, however, looked a bit skittish. Clara swallowed hard on the sudden tightness in her throat. "I hope you all took my warning and trained your asses off while in hiding. Abigail and I were attacked near here by Odessa, the Atropites' Priestess, and some of her followers. You won't be able to see them well unless you're looking for them. They are likely to come as shadows-" she grimaced as two more disappeared. "- and they have acquired the _convenient_ ability to shape shift. At least partially, anyway. We typically encourage you not use your powers so openly and freely, but in this instance, you may need to reach deep inside yourself and tap into what makes us _warriors_. We are descended from the mightiest of gods, my brothers and sisters, and it is the blood of War that runs through our veins! Tap into this power to strike against these witches!"

Roars of excitement filled her ears. Clara had to admit. She was pretty good at giving speeches to get people riled up. Hell, even _she_ was itching for a fight.

Just as she'd expected – although not as _quickly_ as she had expected – the air grew thick and suffocating. A chill rocked down her spine and her teeth gnashed together. Maybe they'd bitten off more than they could handle...Clara shook her head, pushing the thought to the far reaches of her mind and throwing up a shield in case one of them decided to try and push into her mind.

They hadn't gone for the subtle approach. No, it seemed like an ocean of black shadows rolled from the forest and was about to flood and drown them at any moment. The shadows immediately began to form people – men and women, children no older than sixteen in actual age (not appearance). "Oh fucking hell," she groaned and then whispered furiously to the elementals that watched, intrigued and invisible, to what was about to go down. She asked them to pretty, please help them out. Clara hated begging, but she hated pissy elementals even more.

Three more of those that had stayed to fight, disappeared.

She exhaled, realizing her little dagger wasn't going to do much good here. She shook her hands, easily conjuring up two wickedly sharp swords. She didn't have time to weigh them in her hands and get comfortable, because the army had descended.

* * *

><p>If it were possible for Paul to be any more on edge, he'd just succeeded. There was a twisting feeling in his gut, telling him "run!" "go!", but Sam had ordered them to stay put until Clara and her sister got back. The counter was sure to break any second beneath Paul's grip.<p>

Sam gave him a stern look. "Relax, Paul," he said. It wasn't comforting. It was an order.

And it pissed him off. "Relax?," he repeated, pushing off the counter. He scoffed. "Right. Tell me, if Emily was off fighting some creepy ass stuff, would _you_ relax? Fuck no, so why don't you just leave me alone, all right?"

The rest of the pack stared at him, stunned. Paul had a temper, sure, but he'd never disobeyed a direct order. Sam didn't say anything, but grabbed Paul by the forearm and pulled in outside. "I understand that you're worried about your Imprint, Paul, but it's not going to make it any better."

"Then what the fuck am I supposed to do? In case you hadn't realized, they _disappeared. _Didn't Clara say something about some people coming after them or some shit like that?" Paul's hands trembled at the blank look his alpha was still giving him. _Good God_, he thought, _Sam's always been an ass but this?_ Paul shook his head and started to walk away from Sam – toward the woods.

"Paul! We don't know what's out there. If you go out there, you could get yourself killed!," Sam shouted. When Paul made no move to stop, he used his alpha blood and ordered him to stop.

Paul's angry step staggered and he growled, turning around. "Fuck you, Sam," he snarled. His chest heaved as his skin began to ripple and stretch. He didn't try and control it. He didn't want to. A pained howl ripped from Paul's throat and his skin burst, giving way to his wolf form.

Sam took a step toward him, hand raised. Palm up. Paul scoffed and turned around, leaving Sam behind him as he was swallowed whole by the forest.

* * *

><p>Clara ducked as a ball of fire came hurtling toward her head, and charged at the SOB who'd thrown it. He smirked, forming another ball of fire and tossing it straight at her. Clara narrowed her eyes, using her twin blades as a baseball and knocking it back. The man's eyes went wide before he was thrown backwards, a giant burning hole straight through his torso.<p>

She turned, ramming her twin blades into the redheads chest. The woman screeched as Clara started to wrench the blades a part, slicing through her bones. Blood shot from the woman and coated Clara's face. While she wanted to gag, she lifted her leg and kicked the woman off her swords. She didn't realize that the woman was a diversion until she felt a near-paralyzing cold hit the base of her spine.

Summoning fire, she let it fill her to wash away the ice and she whipped around, coming face to face with the very bitch that had attacked her on the beach. Clara's eyes widened at Odessa, who simply laughed. "Didn't think you could get rid of me that easy, did you?" Odessa's eyes narrowed as she muttered an incantation that sent Clara smacking into a tree.

Clara shook off her pain and the momentary shock. While she hadn't been one hundred percent there, she could remember that Odessa had dissolved into the ground. Clara stood up and ditched her weapons, and shouting out the first curse she could think of. Not only did it have no effect, but Odessa _laughed_, and Odessa's hands sliced the air in front of her body.

Clara felt herself being shoved backwards, a knot of bark coming in contact with the base of her spin. She hissed in pain, using the tree to pull herself to her feet. _Come on, Clara,_ she hissed to herself as she smacked the blood away that dripped from her hair and into her eyes. It reeked, smelling of copper and something putrid, like decaying flesh.

She inhaled, feeling her anger and adrenaline build up inside her like some kind of burning white light. Clara's hands burned and she scowled, launching fire ball after fire ball at at the black haired witch.

Odessa dodged each one skillfully, "Put up just a _bit_ of a fight, will you?," she taunted, her hands reaching out and plucking a spinning orb of flames right before it reached her chest. She sneered, flexing her hand and causing the orb to writhe and hiss, before sending it flying straight back to Clara.

Clara dodged and dove straight for Odessa, tackling her to the ground. _This fight is getting nowhere_, she thought. A strong wind picked up – as harsh as it was hot – and smacked her across the face. Her heart thudded violently as she clutched Odessa's neck with her burning palms.

"_No descendant of mine will give up on a battle,_" she heard a male voice spit at her.

Odessa shrieked, her hands blurring in and out of focus as the witch fought to keep control over whatever dark energy she'd been manipulating. Claws raked across Clara's face and arms as the witch tried to knock her away, but Clara's grip tightened around Odessa's neck. A red haze began to tinge Clara's vision and her lips curled back over her teeth.

Clara slammed Odessa's head into the rocky ground, crushing her wind pipe with one hand and conjuring her dagger with the other. Odessa choked out a laugh. "Go ahead, bitch, see if I don't come back."

Clara's hand tightened and she drove the tip of the dagger into the side of Odessa's neck. Pitch black, thick blood oozed from the wound – her neck vomiting thick loads of it onto Clara's hands and arms. Feeling a presence behind her, she stood and left the charmed dagger slowly killing Odessa.

Her hands grabbed at the air, flinging the boy that had come at her headfirst into a large boulder. The sickening crack of his skull cracking was barely audible over the roars of battle that surrounded them, and Clara shook off the gunk that started to burn her skin, and ran toward the boy to make sure he was dead – and that he wasn't one of her guys.

_Don't think he'd be coming at me if he was_, she thought as she knelt beside him. Seeing he was dead, she turned and looked at the raging battle in front of her.

While many of the Atropites were lying limp on the ground, Clara realized with a sickening twist in her stomach, that even _more_ of her own clan was dead or injured. "Come on, Ares," she hissed vehemently to her ancestor, "I thought you liked a nice, bloody battle." Without waiting for a response from the god, she propelled herself off the boulder and onto the back of a severely scarred man with a black sigil tattooed on his head.

Clara's hands wrapped around the man's head before she gave a twist and the bones in his neck snapped. She dropped him and hit the next one. It was a girl no older than her, shocking white eyes, and dark blue hair. Though the girl appeared to blind, she had no trouble blocking each and every one of Clara's hits – even the ones that _hadn't_ come from a weapon – and she definitely hadn't had any problem dishing out the hits either, giving Clara a nasty lashing with an invisible whip that was sure to leave a welt.

Others came out of nowhere and landed around her. Briefly, Clara wondered where the hell Ares was, but pushing it away as she tightened her grip on the swords. Her first thought was to get rid of the blue haired girl – sensing she was the biggest threat of the all. Clara headed for the girl, slashing through two women who sought to protect her, and pinned the girl through shoulder to a tree. As her other blade was coming down, the girl dissolved into black smoke, seeping into the ground.

"Dammit!," Clara hissed, whipping around and letting herself get drenched in bodies, flesh, and blood. It seemed like for every one she killed, three more would come to take its place. "Ares!," she hissed, "Elementals! You could get off your lazy asses and do something for a change!"

The ground seemed to rumble in response and, though she was as scared shitless as the others were – trash talking a god was a quick way to get yourself killed – she took her opponents' momentary pauses of shock to behead six of them. Their heads rolled into a crooked pile at her feet. The others stared back at her, scowling and charging.

The ground's rumbling grew louder and more intense, vibrating through everyone's bones and pounding fear straight into their hearts.

And that's when they emerged. Twelve enormous, feral looking wolves burst forth from the tree line and knocked out the Atropites' front line, crushing their bodies as their enormous paws hit the damp earth. The biggest of them all, the black one, let out a furious growl that ripped through the air. They charged.

As the wolves began tearing the limbs from the Atropa witches, the Caledonia clan continued with their battle, easily gaining lee way into the hoards of Dark Witches that kept pouring from the forest as if in a never ending swarm.

Clara's mind had been snatched by something furious, and lethal, her eyes and body glowing red as she slaughtered any and every Atropite that came at her. Her guttural battle cry filled the ears of everyone as she ditched her swords and began tearing the Atropites apart with her bare hands.

A piercing scream rang out through the clearing, almost as loud and fear inducing as the black wolf's growl. The remaining Atropa witches fell back, dissolving into the forest.

Abbey and the rest of the Caledonia clan sank to their knees, their heads bowed for a reason that Sam Uley and his pack did not understand.

_What are they doing?_, Leah asked with a grunt.

Collin whined, nudging her with his nose. _Look at Clara_, he told them.

The girl's blonde hair was let loose from it's pony tail and was matted with black and red – no doubt blood. Her entire body was encased in a red haze that seemed to pulse. She blinked and focused her eyes on the kneeling witches. "_Rise!_," she commanded. The voice that bellowed from her throat didn't belong to her. It was a deep, masculine voice that commanded respect and left no doubt that anyone who disrespected him would be killed.

The sixteen witches that _could_ stand, did so, and the ones that lay bloodied and injured or dead on the ground, simply lay stiff. "_Where is your High Priest_?," she demanded to the the muscular man that Clara had called Isaac.

Isaac, stone faced, responded, "He has abandoned this clan, my Lord, leaving his daughter as our Priestess."

Clara's face twisted in an amused sneer. "_Warriors? Led by a _Priestess_?"_

Isaac, still wearing the same emotionless masked, said, "With all due respect, my Lord, your very sister was a fierce warrior, was she not?"

_My lord?_, Jacob asked hesitantly.

Clara's eyes snapped to him and she scowled. "_Jacob Black, rightful alpha to these shape shifters – these lycans. Sam Uley, was it your call to aid my descendants?_"

Sam tried not to show that he was intimidated. After all, nothing thus far had ever made him fear for his life. _No_, he thought back, _it was his_. Sam's ears flattened as his head jerked in Paul's direction.

_Thanks a fucking lot_, Paul hissed at him. He never asked them to show up, but they did it because Sam couldn't take being told no to, so he'd followed Paul and ordered the others to do the same.

Sam growled and Paul's lips curled over his massive canines. _Who are you?_, Paul asked defiantly, stepping closer to Clara. Obviously it wasn't her. Last time he checked, she didn't glow red like some giant stop light.

Clara's face pulled into a smirk. "_Foolish, troublesome, defiant, arrogant, and bloodthirsty little mutt, aren't you? No wonder this witch enjoys your company._" She looked around at the bodies that littered the ground. Paul growled low, and he light quickly faded from Clara, leaving her a crumpled heap on the ground.

Paul rushed forward, nudging her with his nose. Clara's eyes blinked and she exhaled sharply. "If it were possible, I'd kill that dick," she snapped, gripping Paul's fur and tugging on it to pull herself to her feet.

Abby, who no longer stood rigid like the others, gave her a disapproving look. "Ares helped save our asses, the least you could do is be grateful."

"'The least you could do is be grateful'," Clara mocked, wiping her stained hands across her face, "You have a god walking around in your body and see how _you_ like it."

She shook out her stiff limbs, thankful that he hadn't left her unconscious or brain dead like she'd seen gods so often do when they possessed people, and motioned for Sam and the others to come forward. "I'm very grateful you all came to help us. There are lots of questions to be answered, but first I need your help." She turned to the sixteen of her clan who stood. "Those who can manipulate earth, erect altars for our fallen. If you manipulate water, once the bodies have been put on the altars, you will wash them clean. Fire, you will burn their vessels, and air, you will carry their souls to the skies."

Two people, looking no older than fourteen, set to work on pulling uneven slabs of rock up from the ground. The wolves went to the forest and phased, pulling on the sweats (and in Leah's case, sweats and tank top), that Emily had tied to their hind legs, before moving to help them lift each body onto a slab.

The others carried out Clara's orders. Clara turned to the bodies that lay on the ground. Abby came away from the altars after saying a prayer over each of the bodies, ensuring safe passage to the Otherworld, and cleansing the bodies of any lingering Darkness.

They linked hands and, in the one space where there were no bodies, they opened the earth with a pit so deep, that you couldn't see the bottom. It was wide enough to fit four people side-by-side, and that's what they did. After Abby cleansed the Darkness from the Atropites' bodies, they levitated them four at a time into the pit, covering each layer of bodies with a layer of earth. Once all the bodies had been put into the earth, they sealed it and asked for Gaea to part the souls from the vessels.

Their hands fell apart and they looked around, expecting to collapse any moment. Bending the elements to such an extent had always left them tired – if not unconscious – and so they wondered why they felt fine.

Their eyes found a crowd of rough-skinned crooked-nosed gnomes, and milky skinned, long haired dryads smiling at them before the lot of them disappeared.

The skies rumbled overhead and dark clouds began to roll in. Clara and Abby turned and looked at their clan. The eight that were injured were being tended to by Isaac and his brothers. Clara frowned, her eyes stinging when she realized that six of their clan had died.

There was a growl to hit her ears and she found Quil and Jared dragging a boy that looked about sixteen years old, his short brown hair matted to his flushed face by sweat and blood. He reeked of darkness. "He didn't retreat," Jared reported, "kneeling behind a tree listening."

The boy scowled, struggling against their tight grip. "Odessa didn't die, you know," he hissed, "She'll come back for you. For all of you. He'll make sure of it."

"He?," Clara asked, conjuring a sword with a silver hilt, adorned with carvings of bones that had been painted down the wickedly glinting onyx blade.

The boy stared at the blade, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Yeah, you know who it is, too. Sent me here to see if you made it through the battle – said he'd like to have you on our side."

Clara quirked an eyebrow and then narrowed her eyes.

The boy's hazel eyes flickered to the blade before landing a steely gaze on her. "Said you'd come eventually. Everybody does. Can't help it. Especially not you Caledonia witches. Said Ares was lying about who he fucked to create your line. Said Darkness was in your blood." He smirked, despite the pressure that Quil and Jared were holding him with. "And he said that Abby was gonna die. Just like Fen did."

Clara's blue eyes flashed with malice at the mention of her once very dear friend, her hand flexing around the hilt of the knife.

The boy laughed darkly, sensing he'd struck a nerve. "Nice and slow, too. 'Said he was gonna slice her up bit by bit while you watched. Carve out her heart and then swallow her soul."

Clara's jaw flexed, trying not to let the mental image of Fen's death get to her. But seeing Abby in his place made it worse and she squared her shoulders, no emotion on her face, and a cold hatred in her eyes as she raised her sword and brought it to the boy's neck.

* * *

><p><strong>I tried with the battle scene, not sure how it turned out though. Sorry for the weight, guys.<strong>

**What do you think? And thanks goes to cynicinafishbowl., BlackRosesNeverDie666, and Lorna Roxen for their comments!**


	9. Chapter 9

Paul tried not to grimace as Clara's sword sliced easily through the boy's neck. Isaac, on the other hand, gave her a stern look. Clara scowled. "He was a pawn. Odessa and whoever _he_ is, put him there knowing someone would find him. He was sent to convey a message. His message was received, his life was ended," she said without emotion.

Abby's hand grabbed Isaac's wrist as he started to follow Clara toward the funeral pyres, and she shook her head at him. "Now isn't the time," she mumbled, "Last thing Clara needs is someone barking at her." Her eyes cut to the wolves and she made a face. "No offense."

"Offense taken," Seth said, giving Abby a crooked smile.

She rolled her eyes at the boy, but smiled back very slightly. His chipperness was growing on her. That is, when she didn't want to strangle him for it. "They won't attack again for awhile," Abby said to everyone, but mostly to Isaac and his brothers. "Seeing the wolves shocked them and they're likely trying to gain more power."

"I give them four weeks. If they haven't attacked then, we'll scry for the location of their covenstead and launch an attack on them -" Marcus, Isaac's almost identical younger brother said, stepping forward. While he had Isaac's stern features, bald head, and incredibly muscular body, it was obvious that Marcus had stopped aging in his twenties, rather than in his thirties like Isaac.

And his brown eyes weren't as cold as Isaac's either.

Clara cut him off, coming up by his side. "No, it won't do any good to keep tackling them. We have to go after the man the pawn was talking about. I'd suggest we go after Darkness, _but_ we both know why that won't work. I think if we can take out the boss – which turns out not to be Odessa after all if _she_'s taking orders – then they won't have a conduit for Darkness. Then they'll be ordinary witches like us, easier to pick off and hopefully they will back down."

Sam cut in then, and the rest of the pack followed him to the small huddle of people that was forming. "Why can't you take out this...Darkness?"

Marcus gave him a look that said it was a stupid question. "Darkness is not tangible, Sam Uley. It is a primordial force, older than Light. It is the very essence of all negative things in the world: lust, anger, greed...To defeat either Darkness or Light would be to disrupt a balance that has been in place for many eons."

"_Right_," Paul muttered, not really believing the Yin-Yang bullshit stemming from this arrow-marked guy. But whether or not he believed wasn't the issue, the issue was the guy that was tapping into these powers. "Well, how about we ditch the war talk for a little bit? I'm in the mood for a party."

Clara smirked, "Why doesn't that surprise me?" She turned to her clan. "For the injured, we'll go the beach to heal them. Then, if Sam and his pack are all right with it, we'll party on the beach."

"The storm brewing shouldn't hit for another hour or so," reported a dark haired woman, standing beside Marcus and smiling down at Clara. "Let me take care of the injured, Priestess. My brother and I can heal them from here and take them to our new covenstead."

"Have at it, Elysian, and when you finish, send your brother to us and you and Marcus go work on -"

Marcus cut her off, pulling his wife toward another dark haired boy, slightly younger than the woman. Clara smirked and nodded her head to Isaac and the other two boys beside them.

Abby clapped her hands. "I think I can manage materializing with a few folks, whose up for it?"

Clara smirked at the ten people that stood around looking bored, flicked her gaze to Marcus, Elysian, and Adam who were dematerializing with the injured, and then to her sister. "Right, well, let's go." She walked over to the wolves and held out her hands. "Whose coming with me?"

Leah took a step back. "I think I'm good going wolf and running to First Beach."

Paul snorted, grabbing Clara's left hand, and Quil and Jared latched on to her right. "Don't let go," she warned, "and, since it's your first time, shut your eyes and don't panic, okay?"

"Why would-" Quil's words were cut off by a ripping sound as the four of them were sucked through the air.

Paul thought he was going to throw up, but he pinched his eyes closed and mashed his lips together, wondering when this was going to end. It was like being on a roller coaster – the air sliced by them, whipping their hair around in every direction, and it felt like his organs were somewhere far behind him, his heart beat erratically, and could _feel_ everything spinning around him.

What seemed like an eternity later, he felt himself hit damp sand, and his eyes snapped open. He swallowed hard against the bile that rose in his throat. "I'm never doing that again," he bit, attempting to get off his stomach and to his feet.

His arms shook and he fell face first to the soil, unable to move.

Clara laughed loudly and he felt his face go hot, but her cool hands gripped his arm and she rolled him onto his back so he could breathe. "Sorry, I forgot to warn you about possible motion sickness," she said.

Quil, who was stumbling sideways toward the others (who didn't look as if they were fairing any better), hit the ground and laughed. "That was fucking sick!," he exclaimed, panting as he pulled himself to his feet.

Clara didn't respond and, instead, stared down at Paul. He looked like he was going to throw up. She frowned and judged the distance from the ocean. It was a good ten feet before he'd even get _touched_ by the water. "Are you all right to walk?," she asked.

He grimaced before sitting up. "Yeah, fine, fine," he muttered, smacking her hands away as she attempted to help him up. "I don't need your goddamned help," he snapped, getting to his feet.

Clara stood up, too, and smirked. "Did I wound your ego?," she taunted.

He made a face, "Like you could," but his voice shook and she laughed, yanking him toward the water's edge. Abby popped up beside them, holding out two bottles of Heineken with tops off. Clara smiled and took them in hand. Abby disappeared, reappearing on Seth's back.

Clara smiled, thankful that Abby was being friendly for a change. Paul took a bottle and took a swallow. She did the same before recoiling. "Damn, I stink."

Paul laughed. "I wasn't going to say anything," he said as they came up next to the others, "but blood and guts tends to do that to a person."

"Shut up," she muttered. "Here, hold this, okay?" She pushed the bottle in his hand before running at a dead sprint for the water and disappearing beneath the waves. She resurfaced and wiggled her hands around her. The water started to steam and her clan let out shouts before jumping in.

Paul found a small smile tugging at his lips, seeing his Imprint grinning from ear to ear. He hadn't known her, what, a few days? He felt an elbow jab him in the ribs. "She's somethin' else, isn't she?," Leah commented, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Uh, yeah," he muttered, casting a curious glance at Leah.

Leah rolled her eyes at him. "Don't get your panties in a knot, Saconi, I was just making an observation. I also think you need to make a move soon. You know," she paused, looking uncomfortable, "maybe she can knock some sense in you."

"I have plenty of sense, Leah," he snapped.

She snorted. "Right, so you disobey our _alpha_ and you call that sense? Listen, I don't like Sam's bossing us around anymore than you do, but we just got our pack back together. Don't fuck it up." With that, she walked off and joined the others around a newly lit fire.

Clara got out of the slightly warm water, ducking her now naked self behind a large piece of driftwood, and let it go back cold. While she wasn't exactly _squeaky_ clean, she was no longer caked in dirt, grass, gross black and red dried blood, and sweat. She waved her hand over her body and a pair of jean shorts covered her lower half and a dark blue tank top covered her top half.

She stood up, shaking the sand out of her shorts and smacking her wet strands of hair out of her face. Her clan did pretty much the same and the lot of them headed to the pack.

"I'd consider that a victory," Abby said, smacking the piece of driftwood she sat on and letting out a very loud howl.

Clara's howl joined hers, and the rest of the Caledonia witches around them joined in. Of course, the pack did too, letting out a chorus of bone chilling howls that sent a flock of birds darting away from their places on the sand. Clara grinned, taking a seat between Jared and Paul. "You guys don't shape shift, too, do you?," Quil asked.

She shook her head. "No, we don't, but it's complicated. It's just a tradition my father started. He said it was to honor our clan's matriarch, a woman named Ise. She was supposedly one of the hounds that Ares took with him when he took part in the Wild Hunt in the Celtic pantheon's lands. Legend has it that Ise had been cursed and that she wasn't truly a hound at all, but a woman that had been crossed by her best friend. According to the legend, Ise had fallen in love with a man named Aniketos, who was married to a woman named Hagne. Hagne had been a sorceress and, having heard of Aniketos infidelity poisoned his drink in an attempt to kill him. She didn't know that Aniketos was still off at sea, and that Ares had disguised himself as her husband in order to sleep with her."

Abby nodded her head. "Naturally, gods don't eat or drink mortal things, but he _had_ smelled the poison. Not that it could kill him, but it was the principle of the thing. Ise had been invited by Hagne to their home. Hagne, still unaware that she had been bedding Ares and not her husband, sought to kill them both – especially after seeing 'Aniketos' up and walking around.

When Hagne went to plate their supper, 'Aniketos' had started to kiss Ise. Of course, Ise had no clue it was Ares, either, so when Hagne came back into the living room and saw them, she was afraid. Hagne had cursed Ise before Ares dropped the guise and showed his true self.

Hagne, who by now was wide eyed and shaking, dropped to her knees and apologized immediately, kissing the feet of Ares and showering him with praise and promises of libation in an attempt to ease his anger. Ares killed Hagne by impaling her upon one of his arrows, and took Ise and left her in the hills of a land far away from Greece, which had been his seat of power.

He'd taken her to a place that had a Pictish tribe called the caledonii. Anyway, the god Kerunnos stumbled upon her and, realizing she was pregnant, cared for her. Her children were human for all intents and purposes, having only two oddities: they had the cry of their mother, the hound, and they had incredible abilities given to them because they had been touched by sorcery. In time, their lineage's cry became just a neat trick that their descendants could do, and their magick would only be tapped into by those who had touched by a god."

"Until now," Clara amended, referring to the fact that, somehow, recent generations had been able to more than just tap into the magick that ran in their blood, but build it up, too. Become the most powerful they had ever been, become _true_ witches and descendants of gods.

* * *

><p>Some while later, after the clan parted and Abby, Clara, and the pack returned to Emily's house, Clara found herself with a full stomach and a happy smile. Emily had insisted on bandaging and disinfecting each and everyone of Clara's and Abby's wounds, and given them extra chicken and rice.<p>

Clara sat on the couch, her legs pulled to her chest as her eyes watched the pack play Twister. Collin was now in a very amusing, possibly uncomfortable position with his right hand on green, arching over Embry's backside, to place his foot on red.

She tried her best not to laugh at the wide eyed, completely helpless look Embry shot her. Her lower lip quivered with the contained laughter and, when Leah (who was underneath Embry) had to lift up and put her left hand on yellow, leaving their chests pressed against each other's, she couldn't contain it anymore.

Her loud, obnoxious laughter carried throughout the house causing those playing Twister to jump and collapse in a massive, awkward pile, which made her laugh harder. She howled with amusement, clutching her sides and gasping for air as she rolled off the couch and hit her head on the coffee table. Even that couldn't stop the laughter. She rolled around in the small space between the coffee table and the couch, tears leaking out of her eyes like Niagara falls. She gasped, her eyes pinching shut as she slapped the floor. "Help me, help me," she panted, gripping the coffee table in an attempt to sit up. Her hand slipped and she hit the floor with a loud _thud_ causing the now untangled pack to laugh just as loudly.

A pair of warm hands locked around her and she felt herself being lifted from the ground and onto the lap of Paul Saconi. She wiped at her eyes and let out a breath. Paul raised an eyebrow at her. "Finished?," he asked.

She rolled her eyes, stretching out her to take up the rest of the seat, letting her head rest in his lap instead of her body. His fingers raked through her hair absently as she watched Leah and Embry pack up the game and turn on the television. Quil and Jared picked up her legs and sat down on the last two cushions, letting her legs fall across their laps.

"Thank you for the help today," Clara said, her blue eyes locking with Paul's. She'd directed it at everybody, but nobody else seemed to be listening. Or, more to the point, like they were purposely ignoring her.

Paul shrugged his shoulders, his hands still pulling slowly through her hair. "Don't worry about it," he told her, watching as she attempted to keep her eyes opened.

She smirked, "You know," she said, "you never did finish that massage."

He gave her a crooked smile. "Some other time," he replied, noticing how she was half dead to the world.

"I never did like a man that can't finish what he started." Clara's hands toyed with the hand of his that rested on her stomach.

Paul's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Trust me, I _can_ finish what I start. More than finish it."

Clara laughed, "Sounds like someone's getting defensive," she taunted, splaying the fingers of his left hand and wove her fingers through his. She yawned. "It's okay, Paul," she mumbled, "Not everyone can be as...skilled as the he-witches I've been with."

Paul's low growl made her grin, but he simply told her to "shut up" and "go to sleep". Clara pulled his hand to her cheek and she yawned, calling him a "candy ass", before passing out.

He cleared his throat, hoping that the others hadn't heard her basically emasculate him. They had, he knew it, and as soon as Clara's soft snores filled the room, _all_ of them – including Abby – started teasing him.

"So, Paul, I think if you ask nicely she might give you back your _cojones_," Abby taunted.

Seth snickered. "What _cojones_?"

"The one's he wish he had," Quil said with a loud laugh.

Clara let out a soft groan as she turned over in her sleep, her face turned toward the television. "Leave Paul alone, you guys. He can't help he's lacking, can you, sweet cheeks?," she mumbled before falling asleep again.

The living room filled with hush laughter at Clara's half-conscious insult and Paul glowered down at the girl. So she wanted him to finish what he started, huh? A smirk played at his lips. _Fine. _

* * *

><p><strong>Muhahahah! Right, sorry for so much dialogue but that legend needed to be told. What do you think of this?<strong>

**Thanks goes to BlackRosesNeverDie666, and missamazing7285 for their comments :)**_  
><em>


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